Funeral Dirge
by Maze Puppet
Summary: In Tyki Mikk's world of darkness, the things revealed by the light can be dangerous. One shot.


Funeral Dirge

This is only a one-shot. Just to let you know. It's a Tyki Mikk one shot.

Anyway, I don't own DGM in any way, shape, or form. So don't sue me, please.

Just enjoy.

* * *

The coffin was quite elaborate, even for a deceased aristocrat. Tyki sniffed in dismissal. The dead girl's father must have put a lot of his money into the whole funeral. Possibly....he would be sad enough to be of use..?

"I can see your thoughts, Tyki dear. I was just thinking the same thing." the in-disguise Millennium Earl said pleasantly, tilting his top hat.

"Perhaps I shall visit the poor soul after the procession, eh, Tyki dear?"

"Do what you want, Lord Earl. I have business to attend to after this tiresome affair." Tyki said, sighing, tugging at his pristinely white gloves.

"Hohoho, you are never very much fun, Tyki dear. Always so serious, so sour. Really, you must loosen up."

"I'm going to go smoke a cigarette," Tyki Mikk said, sensing that the Earl was losing patience. The Portuguese Noah moved out of the Church, sending a glare at the glass mosaic of the "Savior". He opened and closed the large double doors, no doubt earning a few disturbed glares from the people in the pews. He walked a few feet away from the door and then lit up a cigarette, taking a deep puff from the cancerous stick.

He had no idea why the Millennium Earl had brought him along this time around to find more prospective Akuma-hosts. No explanation had been given; the Earl had just told Tyki to come along.

Maybe he had a point to prove. Was it a form of punishment? For failing to kill Allen Walker and his pesky friends? Or was it just for failing to kill Allen Walker, since he had been assigned to kill the young exorcist? What was going on in the mind of the Millennium Earl?

Tyki felt the excessive heat of his cigarette and realized that it had burnt all the way to his fingers. He tossed it down on the ground and smothered it with the toe of his finely shined, black boot. He must have spaced out.

What a waste. And only one drag off of it.

The doors to his right opened and two people came out to prop open the doors. People began filing out, none of them the immediate family of the deceased. Tyki idly watched the black crowd of mourners as carriages filed forth to cart away their owners.

Filthy human scum. Tyki felt the darkest depths of his inhuman soul writhing with anger and disgust, intense desire for murder and genocide rushing through his blackened heart. He hated these humans. The rats scurried about their pointless lives, whimpering and whining about the pitiful existence that "God" had beset upon them, when in reality they had brought all the diseases, all the deaths, all the sorrow upon themselves. Worshiping that false "God" of theirs. Sickening.

He...sometimes envied them.

While some lived the life of filth, others lived such beautiful existences.

Tyki figured that he hated all humans equally, but those who lived those certain lives, he felt he hated them the most.

Heaven forbid that the Earl or Road hear such a thing! Tyki chuckled darkly to himself. To envy and hate humans for the lives they lived. What a notion....what a perfectly insane and suicidal notion.

"Find something funny, Tyki dear?" the Millennium Earl asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at Tyki Mikk's side.

Tyki wiped his face and eyes of all previous emotions and wiped his mind of all previous thoughts.

"Only the simple lives of these rats, Lord Earl." Tyki muttered, his deep voice quiet. The Earl laughed as well, for the time distracted.

"Ah, yes. Disgusting creatures. I cannot wait until we rid this world of their kind." The Earl said joyously, humming a tune as he walked away.

"Come Tyki Dearest, this funeral is not yet over!" the Earl sang above the mourning dirge that was being played by the church pianist.

"No...The funeral has yet to begun." Tyki Mikk whispered softly, to none but himself. Tyki looked at the person playing the piano and for a brief moment saw two familiar faces, belonging to the Traitor Noah and his Host.

Tyki had no desire to see what unlucky family member of the equally unlucky girl-child would become the Earl's next slave, but he had no choice. If he did not watch, the Earl would become curious. And a curious Earl would be no good for the Portuguese Noah.

The funeral dirge played on, grating noisily on Tyki's ears. A few Teez flitted out of Tyki's body and over to the pianist.

The music finally stopped with a cacophony from the piano keys and a scream, but none were around to investigate. The Portuguese Noah walked away as the Teez flitted on the wind to Tyki's shoulder and landed peacefully. Blood dripped from it's wing and threatened the pristine and impossibly clean coat that Tyki wore, but it phased right through him and the Teez fell into his body, nestling comfortably amongst his organs, for now falling into "sleep".

No...The funeral had yet to really begin.


End file.
